


Float Upstream

by deirdre_c



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deirdre_c/pseuds/deirdre_c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're never too tired for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Float Upstream

Jared’s exhausted, wrecked, longest day of filming since Season Three, he thinks. And Jensen was on the set hours before he was, so Jared can’t even figure out how the guy is still upright. Jared can barely see straight to unlock the door, but then the latch clicks and the door swings wide and they’re dragging themselves into the house.

He toes off his sneakers and throws the keys toward a bowl on the kitchen counter, sending up a prayer of thanks that sent the dogs home with one of the show’s PAs for the next few days, once he found out he and Jensen wouldn’t be home ‘til way too late.

“Your room?” he grates out, voice shredded from all the screaming Sam had to do in the last scene of the night.

“It’s that or the couch,” Jensen groans. “No way I can climb the stairs.”

Jared starts fumbling at the buttons on his shirt, getting the top two undone and then pulling it and his tee off all at once, dropping it on the bedroom floor and dropping face first onto the bed.

He feels the bed dip as Jensen eases down to sit beside him. “C’mon, man. Let’s get these off.” Jensen puts a gentle hand on his hip and rolls him onto his side, then works to undo his button fly. Jared reaches out for Jensen’s zipper, too, but can’t muster the energy to do anything more than tuck his fingers into the waistband, idly grazing his knuckles back and forth through the downy line of hair beneath Jensen’s navel.

“Mmmmm,” Jensen hums in response, eyes fluttering closed even as he continues to pull at Jared’s jeans. Jared reluctantly abandons the warmth of Jensen’s skin, flopping over onto his back, humping his hips up off the mattress just enough to slip both pants and boxers down and off, and then scootches himself wearily up the bed toward the promised land of pillows just a foot away.

He hears Jensen shift and grunt and the clank of belt buckle hitting the floor. The light clicks off and Jensen’s crawling up and tucking himself close, drawing the covers up along with him, burrowing his face into Jared’s neck so that his hair tickles Jared’s chin.

Jared’s mind starts to drift, float, warm and weary, and he doesn’t even realize he’s slipped his right hand down Jensen’s body, languidly rubbing light circles around Jensen’s bellybutton with his thumb, every once in awhile dipping it down to press into the little dent and then going back to circling.

Jensen shivers a little and huffs out a laugh, honey-thick. “I can’t believe you’re trying to start something _now_.”

“M’not,” Jared protests, but he doesn’t stop his slow caress round and round the delicate rim of skin.

“Oh yeah?” Jensen murmurs. “Two can play at that game.” He snakes one arm around Jared’s waist and skates his fingers along the contour of Jared’s spine, down then up and then back down again to small of his back, the barely-there touch of his fingertips lapping sweetly along Jared’s nerves.

He lies still for a moment, melting, savoring the feel of blood slowly pooling in his groin, a deep lungful of air filling him with Jensen’s scent. Then he gets a hand underneath Jensen’s armpit to tug him upward so that they’re face to face.

Jensen smiles at him, eyes half-lidded and amused in the moonlight pouring in the window. “Hey.”

“Hey there,” Jared whispers, and leans in to lick at the curve of Jensen’s lower lip, touching it with just the tip of his tongue in quick, tiny flicks. He shifts his hips forward just enough to brush up against Jensen’s stiffening dick, savoring the bristle of curls, the long, smooth heat of his hard-on.

Jensen’s breathing grows a little shallow. “We really doing this? It’s not that I’m not sayin’ no, I’m just...” He trails off, closing his eyes and lolling his head back on the pillow, and Jared figures the two of them are probably competing for the Guinness World Record in Tired.

“Shhhh,” Jared soothes, running one finger along the line of Jensen’s jaw and down his neck to stroke back and forth along the sharp jut of his collarbone. “Turn over. I’ll take care of everything.”

A moan rumbles deep in Jensen’s chest as he rolls painstakingly onto his side. Jared inches closer until he’s pressed against Jensen’s back, then licks his own palm, wetting it with saliva and reaching down to slick his cock in a few lazy strokes, sensation rolling through him like summer thunder. He gets his leg up under Jensen’s knee to nudge it a little higher, open him up a little more, so that Jared can fit his cock snug in the groove of Jensen’s ass.

He doesn’t move for a long moment, just lays there, his forehead pressed against Jensen’s shoulder, punch-drunk on a cocktail of fatigue and pleasure, in this weird limbo of horny-as-hell and simultaneously on the very verge of falling asleep. It’s then he feels Jensen begin to make tiny, almost imperceptible thrusts of his hips, down into the mattress then back to rub-glide Jared’s cock along his crack.

Jared rides along passively for a minute, then rouses himself to start moving too, matching Jensen’s unhurried pace and reaching around to thrum his fingers, back-and-forth, back-and-forth, across Jensen’s taut nipple. Jensen gasps and squirms, losing his rhythm, but Jared catches him up, sliding his hand down Jensen’s flank to cup his balls, run lightly up his shaft to gather the blurt of precome at the tip and smooth it all over the head and length.

Time stretches out, viscous and hazy, both of them panting slightly, barely rolling their hips, only as much as necessary for friction and pressure and the slow swell of approaching climax.

Jensen reaches back to thread his fingers through Jared’s hair and that’s the signal for Jared to stretch up and run his tongue along the ridge of Jensen’s ear, sucking the lobe in hard and worrying it in his teeth at the same time he tightens his grasp on Jensen’s dick. Jensen whimpers as he comes, thick and wet over Jared’s hand. Jared catches as much of the load as he can, and Jensen spreads his legs slightly, allowing Jared to feel the muscles’ tiny quivers as he paints the insides of Jensen’s thighs. When they’re all slicked up with come, Jared shifts his hips, adjusts himself to slide his cock forward into the damp heat, Jensen still gripping, twisting Jared’s hair and holding his legs together to form a tight channel for Jared to pump into. Three, four times and Jared’s orgasm shoots down his spine and spirals out into his fingers and toes and tips of his ears.

Jared crashes, can’t even move to pull out from between Jensen’s legs or shift his arm where it sits like a lead weight across Jensen’s hip. He just lies there, unmoving except for the feather-light kisses he’s dusting along the spot where his lips happen to rest against back of Jensen’s neck. Finally Jensen elbows him off, shoving Jared backward slightly and rolling over onto his stomach with a sigh.

“G’night, Jay.”

Jared’s reply-- _Love you_ \-- is on the tip of his tongue, but it’s swallowed as he slips into darkness.


End file.
